


Consolation

by daredevilmoon



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Backstory, M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2152389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daredevilmoon/pseuds/daredevilmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which losing is more fun than winning. Slightly sweet, slightly salty.</p><p>
  <i>He debated a moment before deciding on the hopefully innocuous, “Tell me about the first time you kissed a boy.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consolation

"Don’t go to sleep,” Philip said, voice softly fading into the silence. He stroked the backs of his fingers against Thomas’s hip, taking in the slight jerk of response it provoked.

He had spoken as much to himself as to Thomas; it was too humid and, with no option towards leaving his flat unless it were to be separately, they had resigned themselves to the bed. That, too, had it’s problems: even resting atop the thick duvet seemed unbearable and the contact of skin on skin would have been too much if they hadn’t been imbued with parted lovers’ longing.

After, feeling sated if slightly unpleasant, they simply lay for a while in silence, the air seeming such a perfect match to their skin that Philip felt as though he had sunk into it. Coupled with the quiet, Philip found it increasingly hard to stay awake. He massaged his fingers along Thomas’s hipbone, dipping into the soft skin on either side, until Thomas rolled onto his back.

“I’m bloody tired” Thomas said, lolling his head in Philip’s direction. 

“Am I so exhausting?”

“The three hours’ sleep didn’t help, but you are quite exhausting. That’s before we even get to anything interesting, mind,” he said with a smirk, looking at Philip as though to gauge his reaction. Philip gave an exaggerated frown, rapping his hand against Thomas’s arm. “Well, I perked up by the time you got your trousers off, but I’m quite tired again. For some reason.”

“Shall I take that as a compliment?”

“If you’d like.”

“Thank you, then,” Philip said, moving to kiss him. He carded his hands through Thomas’s hair as they kissed, softly and lazily, for a few moments, breaking away to suck at his Adam’s  apple. It shivered beneath his lips as Thomas made a little noise and Philip pulled back slightly to see the mark, a wonderfully soft pink against his pale throat. He gave it an absent lick, tasting the salt of his sweat, before he kissed the divot between his clavicles. Half stifling a yawn, he slid down the bed some and rested his forearm against Thomas’s belly.

“Why’s it I’m not allowed to sleep?”

“I like talking with you.”

“We weren’t talking,” Thomas said with an amused  look. “We were just laying there. Like you do when you sleep - funny, that.”

“I like the option of talking with you,” Philip amended.

He supposed it was true, though it was more that the hours seemed wasted when he couldn’t remember them. Even if he spent his time taking in Thomas’s distracted form, it was worthwhile, speaking as it did to an entirely different sort of intimacy to the one that they had forged.

“I’m touched.”

“As you ought to. For some godforsaken reason, I find you charming.”

“Well,” Thomas began, turning onto his side to better face him, “one of us ought to be. What is it you wanted the _option_ to talk about, then?”

“I don’t actually know,” he responded. He wandered the depths of his own history wondering what sort of mirrored experience may have been found in Thomas’s, apparently taking too long as Thomas gave him a soft kick. Philip wrapped  his fingers around Thomas’s waist and pulled him forward slightly, dangerously close to making him lose the plot of his question. He debated a moment before deciding on the hopefully innocuous, “Tell me about the first time you kissed a boy.”

“All right,” Thomas said with a smile. “I was in the back of me dad’s shop, meant to be organising the little finicky parts. A clock shop. He stepped out for a bit and his apprentice lad  were meant to be minding the store, but he snuck back in back and sort of surprised  me. Not a bad surprise, though.”

“And does this story end badly?” Philip asked warily; _that_ wasn’t the sort of conversation he’d meant to initiate. Fortunately, Thomas shook his head.

“No, nothing like that; he just went back to minding the shop. Never did it again. Which didn’t bother me, really. He were handsome enough, but a bit strange. Obviously.”

“Obviously. Who could stop kissing you?” As he leaned in, Thomas leaned back just out of his reach. Philip laughed. “Ah, but you’re cheating.”

“Not now; you’re going to distract me. Since you wanted to talk, tell me about yours.”

“There’s no story,” Philip lied, moving forward. At this Thomas did move into him, pressing his leg between Philip’s as he kissed him. When  he spoke, it was against the kiss.

“Tell me anyway.”

“He, ah,” he trailed off for a second. Their position was incredibly distracting; he could feel Thomas’s prick filling against his hip and that was quite enough to leave him mute, no less when Thomas  hips rocked forward into him. “He fancied me, but I - didn’t like him very much. I was - you have to stop a moment,”  Philip said. The motions ceased, but they remained in their position. “I was awful to him and one day he got rather upset and I got the idea that he was going to hit me. I told him if he kissed me I wouldn’t bother him again.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see if he would, I suppose,” Philip said, colouring.  He’d  been rather hesitant to tell the tale; he was well aware that he had been a beastly child and  didn’t entirely want people to know particulars. Fortunately, through the story, Thomas only looked entertained; of course. Philip ought to have known better and kissed his appreciation into Thomas's jaw.

“Did  you?”

“Did I?”

“Did you stop?”

“I don’t suppose so. I still didn’t like him.”

“Do you often kiss boys you don’t like?” He asked, his voice a challenge. He rocked forward again and Philip groaned, ducking his head before he it entirely registered what Thomas had said. He laughed.

“Not lately.”

“That’s good. Nasty habit.”

“Very much so; might’ve been too distracted to find the boys I’ll like.”

“I hear they’re rare.”

“Yes, I - ah, god,” he managed as Thomas overbalanced them so that he lay atop Philip.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” Thomas said, smirking. Philip pulled him down for a desperate kiss before letting him go again so he could see his face, hair haloing it like some odd, sinful angel. Thomas stayed that way for a moment, watching Philip with interest. It seemed a sort of sign of dominance, once which made sent a jolt of arousal straight to Philip's prick. Something must have shown on his face, because Thomas's brows flickered up a moment as his lips twisted in smug amusement. He kissed Philip again before trailing his mouth down his jaw, to his throat where Philip was certain he wasn't giving a bruise.

“You wanted to sleep,” Philip reminded breathlessly. “We _could_ talk while we fuck, but I’d rather both of us be awake.”

"Mm."

There was a protracted stretch which they fell to one another, to breaths and sighs; that and the shifting of the bed were the only sounds made. Philip thought it the most wonderful thing in the world, a version of a love song kept secret yet known in every bedroom: his favourite melody when Thomas played. 

Philip brought Thomas’s mouth to his own, kissing him sloppily and so, so sweetly to feel his sounds and his heat on his lips. Thomas drew back slightly and gave him a distant sort of smile with his lovely red mouth. Philip leaned up to kiss him again, glancingly, as he spoke.

“I think it looks like” - this time, it was Thomas who lost his voice to a moan, leaving Philip not a little triumphant - “neither of us is getting what we wanted.”

"This is a fine way to - ah  - a fine way to lose."


End file.
